


Ruff Stuff

by nothingwrongwiththerain



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Asexual Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Lance acquires a dog, M/M, Sentient Voltron Lions, Space family, creating a pet!verse, secret pet, the plot fought back, these are updated tags!, this started as a v simple idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11515923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwrongwiththerain/pseuds/nothingwrongwiththerain
Summary: Lance fought to keep ahold of the wriggling puppy, but like his stoic expression, the small creature was escaping him."No." Lance pressed, whisper harsh and riding on a giggle. "Please, they'll never let me keep you."-In which Lance finds a dog and doesn't tell anybody.Also pirates and space monsters. Why are these things never simple?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to 'one silly conversation evolved into a series in the making'. The notion of Lance finding a dog was too cute to let go. it was supposed to be a one shot. then aliens and pirates got involved. idk anymore. 
> 
>    
> ( p.s. this builds on my first ace!keith fic but can very well stand alone. )( plus we have flipped to lances pov, bc why not)

Lance fought to keep ahold of the wriggling puppy, but like his stoic expression, the small creature was escaping him. 

"No." Lance pressed, whisper harsh and riding on a giggle. "Please, they'll never let me keep you." 

The dog was barely longer than his forearm and couldn't weigh more than Pidge's bayard. Of course, ‘dog’ probably didn’t apply to animals not found on earth; Lance was stretching the terminology further on a creature with four eyes and legs bending backward at the knee. Did dogs have knees? Or were they elbows? 

"Rarf!" 

"Shhhhhh!" Lance paused and hoisted the not-dog up to his face to impart a stern look. "If you want to stay, you have to be quiet." 

The creature stopped squirming, regarding Lance with baleful eyes. Maintaining serious eye contact with four wide purple eyes was disproportionately difficult. Even if she wasn't a dog she had puppy eyes down pat, rivaling his boyfriend. 

“You think you’re cute, huh?” A purple tongue lolled between stubby teeth as the bundle of green fur snuffled her agreement. Lance caved and pressed a kiss on her nose. “Well you would be right,” he grumbled, letting her nuzzle close, mirroring the moment he found her crying under an uprooted tree. 

The tree in question was not uprooted when he landed. Wait a minute. If caught, he could blame this on his Lion. 

**You can,** Blue rumbled, **but that doesn't mean they won't take her away.**

"Why do you think I'm sneaking around?" Lance muttered, countering his Lions soft concern with a shot of exasperation. Lance was minding his own business, thanks, during the planetside visit to the ruins Pidge found the Green Lion in when Blue rejected his launch sequence and began tipping over trees. 

After hurriedly regaining control, Lance returned to the jungle confused and searching for the mystery distress signal Blue was reacting to. Several minutes of following Blue’s bad directions and evasive reasoning, Lance heard a whimper. Five minutes more saw Lance back in the cockpit holding an armload of wriggling fluff with crooked ears. 

He couldn’t leave her. Overwhelming familiarity tackled logical reasoning, securing a stranglehold that bought him time to rush to the ramp of his Lion. Blue took off without Lance touching the controls. Lance, preoccupied by comforting a crying dog, pretended not to notice. 

Pausing at an intersection, Lance peered around the corner. Empty. Presumably Pidge was on the bridge, where he was supposed to be. 

"Ack!" Lance startled and nearly dropped the creature as a slobbery tongue found the crevasse between helmet and shirt collar. "You're killin me." Lance whispered, sparing another glance at her face. She resembled the horrible potential of someone inventive crossing a cocker spaniel with a pit bull and giving it the body of a pug. Such results would be unethical, wrong, and undeniably cute. To Lance at least, the stubby muzzle and curly fur was cute. 

A faint warning pinged in the back of Lance's mind, the opening notes of a morning alarm before full consciousness. Blue, being subtle. Which meant Allura or Coran were near – Lance was pretty sure the Alteans noticed when he and Blue were mid-conversation. Best to hurry. 

Lance closed his connection with Blue very gently, sealing emotions until he could guarantee some privacy. Adjusting his grip, he tucked the creature closer to his chest. His room was one hallway over. "Almost there..." 

Sweeping the hallway, Lance didn't see anybody, which left...

The lift. Right at the end of the hallway Lance was traversing. When the doors opened there was no way whoever was inside could miss him.

Putting on a burst of speed Lance barreled down the hall, skidding to a halt at the panel by his room, free hand skipping over the keys. Why did he bothering locking the damn door? 

His bedroom opened in synch with the elevator doors. Lance cleared the threshold in a single heartbeat, pressing his back to the cool metal as the doors slipped shut, his shoulders slumping. The creature took the opening to leap free of Lance arms, using his chest as a springboard. 

"Oof. Careful there." Lance said, examining the muddy paw prints stamped on his chest plate. Lovely. "You're gonna be nothing but trouble, yeah? Nothing but trouble and a whole lotta noise. Problemas y rudio.” She barked again. Lance put his hands on his hips. “Ruidoso. That’s right. I will call you out in multiple languages. This is who you are now. Least original name ever.” 

He was rambling. For once it didn’t matter. “Maybe I’ll teach you Spanish. Keith is learning too; you can be study buddies.” 

Purple nose pressed to the ground, the dog lookalike scoured his room, sniffing and snuffling the empty corners. Thankfully his drawings were taped at eye level, and unlike his boyfriend he kept his clothes in the dresser. Lance put his helmet on the floor and pulled a blanket off the bed to create a nest of sorts. The creature paused her exploring to watch. 

"For you!" Lance finished and gestured proudly, but the not-dog was gone. 

Lance turned his head, was eye-level with the creature happily stood on his formerly clean bed. "Hey! Ruidoso, that's mine!" 

There was a rapping at the door. "Lance?" 

Lance froze at Coran's voice. 

"Yeah just a sec!"

Scooping up the creature Lance slid her in the bathroom, shushing with a finger pressed to his lips. Both tails wagged excitedly. Honestly, at this point Lance couldn't be sure if that was a good or bad sign. 

"Pidge and Allura have gathered on the bridge!" Coran could project his voice through a meter and a half of concrete if he wanted. “Is there something the matter with your com?” 

Right. He muted his helmet when Blue started acting up. "Yeah, I just," Lance looked down at the mud coating his armor. "I fell in the swamp and, and, it got in my helmet. I need to get it out of my hair. Can you tell them I'll be up soon? Really need to shower. Super muddy." And there was the downside to rambling. 

"Understandable! I'll pass on the message. Meet you upstairs.”

Lance opened his mouth to thank the Altean when a short chirp echoed from the bathroom. That was new. 

"What's that?" 

"Nothing Coran! I... sneezed." 

“Very well!” 

Lance pushed the bathroom door open and dropped to his knees to check on Ruidoso, who was so excited to see him after the 12 second hiatus she started barking. 

"Rarf! Ra-"

"I'll-be-up-soon-bye!" Lance called out to cover up the short yips, smacking his hand on the shower button. Water activated with a hiss, masking the last of Ruidoso’s commentary. 

Lance waited, listening carefully for any additional concerns from Coran. None came. Lance let out a breath slowly, watching Ruidoso snap at the water spraying down. 

It occurred to him she was probably thirsty. Maybe hungry. 

Lance’s eyes widened. What did green furry creatures from alien planets eat? How much could they eat? Where was Ruidoso going to go to the bathroom, or get exercise, or a million and one other things Lance hadn't thought about when he kidnapped the whimpering puppy. 

He was in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, short and sweet (and secretly out of control). 
> 
> More importantly THERE IS ART. ALREADY. I'm shook. Many thanks to the beautiful and talented raphodraws for Lance with a full grown puppers [here](http://raphodraws.tumblr.com/post/163058800262/lance-and-his-alien-pupper-based-on-this-fic-of)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~and another thing. Overpowering love to fragriani, my beta AND my partners hota and Tem <333


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puppies are good listeners
> 
> (brief mention of Cuddle Puddle, explanatory words at the end*)

Three days stood between Lance and any real danger of accidental dog discovery. Shiro, Hunk and Keith had undertaken a separate, significantly more interesting mission guarding a shipment of food from the planet Jidoro to a remote space station. Allura assured them dividing Voltron was a tactical show of power – proof any number of Lions served as a space pirate deterrent. This freed Pidge for a pet project long put on hold, returning to the ruins where they found the Green Lion.

Hunk offered to assist, was visibly miffed when Allura assigned the Yellow Lion to the Jidoran protection detail. Shiro had to intervene when Keith and Lance joined Team Hunk in protest of spending time apart. Pulling rank wasn’t great for morale; the subsequent scheduling error that sent the three paladins guarding the Jidorans scrambling to launch with a fifteen-minute notice left Lance plenty of ammo to avoid spending time with the Alteans. 

The Jidoran envoy left two days ago. Lance and Pidge finished sweeping the ruins yesterday, providing Lance three days to prepare. 

Three days? All the time in the world.

Ruidoso was surprisingly receptive to the food goo Lance smuggled from the dining room and the tap water in the bathroom. Lance ruined a few towels cleaning her off, put in the extra effort to take over laundry duty from Pidge, who was happy to distance themself from Lance’s swamp soaked suit. 

Puppy poo was another problem entirely. Lance wasn’t about to fashion doggie diapers; there were limited clothing options on the ship as it was. Turned out Ruidoso wasn’t as closely related to earth dogs in that respect; the worst Lance dealt with were grey pellets. Growing up with three cats and four dogs, Lance could tackle building a makeshift kitty litter box. The garbage chute at the end of the hall took care of the rest.

Project Puppy was laughably manageable compared to Keith’s radio silence. The crew had limited communication since leaving, another stipulation the Jidorans insisted on as a safety precaution. 

“I’m not asking for a moon here,” Lance said, brushing Ruidoso with the remains of a well chewed comb that probably belonged to Keith. Oops. “I sincerely doubt a few lines of text will alert half the system. Shiro calls Allura with ‘updates’. Perks of marrying rich I guess.” Lance scrunched his nose, focusing on a tangle as Ruidoso cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

For a relationship he actively avoided then dove into headfirst, Lance could hardly fathom the whiplash he inflicted on Keith. Lance was happy to carry any relationship aspects Keith was routinely baffled by. Hand holding, hugs, a quick kiss– his boyfriend needed fair warning, but rarely turned him down. The reassurances Lance wouldn’t leave because Keith was asexual fit into his life as seamlessly as Keith fit on the other half of his bed.

In the three weeks they had been dating, Keith and Lance were seldom apart. The whole team shared space readily after the Adrath incident. Hunk and Pidge combined work benches in the main hangar, Keith never trained alone, Shiro and Allura didn’t skip meals to plan. Coran had produced a chest filled with blankets in the living room for all the impromptu couch crashing. 

Lance was painfully aware Team Voltron hadn’t separated without an open line of communication since Shiro and Allura’s wedding. Necessity or not, he didn’t have to like it. 

Blue purred, nudging his mind, humming vibrations over the pane of mental glass separating them. **My connection with Red is present little one. Their paladin worries for you as well, and is safe** Lance sighed and pooched out his lower lip. He trusted Blue, but the frustration remained. 

“He didn’t even get to say goodbye.” Ruidoso raised her doggy eyebrows, whiskers jumping. “I know right?” Lance gestured fruitlessly with the comb. “The Jidorans gave them the wrong schedule, so it wasn’t his fault. But how stupid would it be if the last thing I said to him was _babe stop spitting toothpaste in the sink_?” 

Blues rumbling gained an insistent edge. “Yeah yeah, I’m being dumb. That’s me. Always making something out of nothing.”

The low chirp from Lance’s lap could have been in his defense or agreement. Lance liked to think Ruidoso was the sympathetic type. “Thanks girl, knew you’d understand.” He set the comb down, scrutinizing the lack of progress. Oh well. Apparently this wasn’t destined to be a night of any real achievement. 

“Bed time now. Means you get off the bed.” He picked Ruidoso up and settled the puppy in her blankets pile. If alien dogs could give judgmental looks, Lance was on the receiving end. “No. I’m serious this time.”

Unlike last night, Lance held out five minutes before surrendering to the soft whimpers, lifting Ruidoso and letting the pup squirm around, worming beneath the covers. Bad habit in the making aside, Lance couldn’t deny puppy snores helped combat Keith’s conspicuously empty side of the bed. 

-

The next day offered fewer opportunities for Lance to slip away. Coran enlisted his help sorting the powerless components Pidge was rejecting, then Allura asked Lance and Pidge to catalogue the items and move them into storage. 

Lance had no time for a mid-day check in, came dangerously close to snapping at Allura when the Princess asked if anything was wrong. His reply veered into an overtly sarcastic question on how her conversations with Shiro went and definitely lost him a few Coran points. Lance didn’t really care.

Distractions didn’t change the fact he hadn’t spoken to Keith or Hunk in nearly four days and wouldn’t for another two. If nothing else, his badly contained short temper prevented anyone from protesting when he excused himself from dinner. 

Ruidoso was sleeping when Lance finally returned to his room. He played with her ears until she woke, stubby tails wagging so violently Lance was concerned she would hurt herself. 

She ate and they played fetch with a broken stylus from one of Pidge’s computers until the puppy refused, flopping down out of arms reach. Lance scooted closer to the panting creature. “Tired? Me too.” Broadcasting an actual bad mood wasn’t something Lance fell back on often. It was exhausting. 

Ruidoso tipped her head to the side, one floppy ear turned inside out. Lance smiled softly as he fixed her ear, fingers running over the silky fur. “You’re something, you know that?” 

She chirped.

“Gonna get me in five kinds of trouble.”

Another chirp, accompanied by Ruidoso ducking her way into Lance’s lap, comically large paws stamping around until she was comfortable, small puppy chin resting on his thigh.

“That’s puppy for ‘not in the slightest’,” Lance translated, providing a high pitched voice for Ruidoso, carrying on in a falsetto: “You’re the best! You saved me and I love you.” Lance frowned, scratching at the base of Ruidoso’s neck as she snuggled closer. “Like I could leave you. This kind of stuff is practically outlined in the paladin code. Right?”

Ruidoso sneezed. 

“Exactly,” Lance concurred, “Thank you. Somebody who understands.” He took a moment to wipe her purple nose on his sleeve. Okay, alien snot, a little gross. For the first time since breakfast, the slideshow of Keith and the others fighting a pirate ambush started to fade, replaced by a little green dog. Lance bopped her on the nose. “Fun fact: you have twice as many eyes as my puppies at home, and an extra tail.” 

Ruidoso snapped lazily at the sleeve Lance was cleaning her face with, missing badly. “You rip this shirt I will have some explaining to do. Don't worry, I’m pretty good at it. My second dog ate a couch and I got him off scot-free. Dodger is pretty old now. He was 13 when I... left.”

Lance swallowed, dropping his hand so Ruidoso had full access to slobber on his sleeve. Maybe this wasn’t better than worrying about his team. He didn’t talk about Earth for a reason. None of them did. But the words didn’t stop, tumbling like loose coins.

“He was pretty deaf and the cats liked to mess with him, but Rosa will chase them off. She’s smaller than the cats and barks a lot. And my family wouldn’t let him get bullied, he was pretty old for a golden retriever...”

Lance’s throat was uncomfortably tight as Ruidoso gnawed on his thumb. Don’t go there. Don’t think about it. Don’t say it. 

He looked down, four large purple eyes darted up. Lance’s whisper was dulled by his suddenly stuffy nose. “He’s okay, right?” 

When the first tear hit her head Ruidoso startled. Lance was halfway into a garbled apology when she started whimpering, licking his chin. Crumpling in, Lance hugged the puppy to his chest. Why was he so weak? He had a fucking universe to defend. One dog light years away wasn’t a good reason to breakdown. He never cried, he hated crying. 

Ruidoso didn’t hold it against him. The judgment free audience was a weight off Lance’s aching chest. She whined a bit, pawing at his hands until she had access to lick the tears and snot on his face. 

“Ew, Ruidoso,” Lance complained with a watery laugh. “Please don’t stick your tongue up my nose. That’s gross.” The responding chirp wasn’t shamed. It would have to do. 

Lance stayed on the floor for a while longer, letting his breathing even out as he absently patted the bundle of fur in his lap. It didn’t matter what they said, Lance realized. The dog was staying. He could make this work. 

He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that wasn't very kind. Old habits as they say. speaking of, thank u sarah for sticking around and editing <3
> 
> *'Adrath incident' ~ there was some kidnapping and suffering in my other klance fic with ace!keith and the whole team is still a bit spooked. and Shallura wedding, fyi. 
> 
> Any and all comments will be cherished and contemplated deeply !


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are other people on this ship I swear.

The third morning rolled around, Lance woke to a face full of puppy sniffs. 

“Ugh- dog breath,” Lance pushed Ruidoso off his chest. “We talked about this.” She head-butted his stomach. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right, how foolish of me,” he said, tousling her ears sleepily. “Tomorrow’s the big day! Meet the boyfriend and the best friend and other best friend and the Leader, and,” Lance bit the corner of his lip, blinking at the ceiling. “And Princess and Coran...at the same time.” 

Out loud, the collision of names rattled, collided and generally made a mess of his perfectly good plan. “How are you with crowds?” Lance asked doubtfully. She yawned, showcasing rows of stubby teeth. “Right.” 

_If they say no, better start saying goodbye now_. The thought, unbidden, arrived without an invitation. Ah. Voice of Reason. Lance literally did not ask. Ruidoso gnawed on his thumb, engrossed and hopelessly outmatched; oblivious to the unfolding mental train wreck. He had no backup. Ruidoso was inexcusably cute and innocent and couldn’t survive alone. Not telling anyone yet had nothing to do with his bad mood or crippling fear of failure. 

“Shit.” Lance breathed. Ruidoso paused her slobbery campaign, eyeing him. “No, that’s a bad word,” Lance covered her ears. “You heard nothing.” 

The teasing tasted hollow, heavy, sand gushing from a cracked hourglass. _If they said no_. Lance had a firm grasp on the McClain Family Stray Animal Checklist. Food, shelter, house trained, Blue scanned and confirmed no diseases. Would assuming Shiro’s #1 Space Dad mug made him fallible to parent logic be Lance’s downfall? 

If _Shiro_ said no.

Lacking an engaging challenger Ruidoso launched off Lance, scampering across the floor to collect her new toy, a pair of rolled socks as large as her head. Her poorly aimed bite set the ball rolling, she gave chase with plodding puppy steps. 

Lance stumbled out of bed, morning-fuzzy revelation drop kicking the obvious hole in his plan. He needed support. Shiro breathed teamwork as a virtue, would hopefully want to avoid another rank pulling incident. Lance had the logistics down; all he needed was backup. Perhaps introducing everyone simultaneously was ill advised. Springing a secret dog directly after a mission – home made recipe for disaster. He needed to start small. 

Pondering, Lance tapped a finger to his lips as Ruidoso tripped over nothing and sprawled snout first on his toes. A thin smile spread. Might as well start with the smallest. 

-

“What’cha workin’ on Pidgeotto?” 

“You want something.” Pidge stated, hunched over a tangle of glowing wires. Lance couldn’t differentiate between one gray wire and the next, wondered if Pidge noticed the smell of burnt plastic hovering over the living room. 

“Are you sure you aren’t telepathic? I think you should be tested.” 

“Never said I wasn’t.”

Lance paused, mouth open. That might be worth serious thought. Would explain last week...

“Lance.”

“Yes?”

“You came here for a reason?” Pidge’s eyes flicked from their work, drinking in Lance’s posture where he balanced on back of the couch. In a deliberate show of control, Pidge moved the twisted knot off their lap and interlaced their fingers. “What did you do.”

Lance squirmed, bravado under threat. “You’re freaking me out a little here Pidge.” 

“Sounds like a you problem.” 

“Hurtful, but fair.” Lance mused. Fidgeted. Watched the wire bundle burn a crosshatch pattern in the couch. Took a breath. Nothing like a little delicious, useless procrastination. “Pidge, do you remember when Rover II broke the–”

“Yes.” Pidge said swiftly. “I do.” 

Lance pushed on. “And I told Coran I did it? Saved the day?” 

“Yes.”

“I need a favor.” 

-

Lance held out the entire trek to his room without answering Pidge’s increasingly pointed questions. 

“Whatever you broke, the sooner you tell me–” 

“I didn’t break anything,” Lance insisted for the fifth time. “When have I ever–” A flat look truncated his protest. “Don’t answer that.” 

Together they reached his door. Past the Point of No Return had snuck unhelpful into his subconscious, Lance repressed the urge to hum. Here went nothing. Searching the hallway for last minute threats, Lance keyed the lock. 

Ruidoso greeted him in her typical fashion, charging the door with a string of short barks. Lance scooped her up before she could reach Pidge. 

“So-I-rescued-a-dog.” Lance said, explanation launching with the graceful haste of rocket boosters strapped to a motor mouth. “Blue found her near the Green Lion ruins and I brought her back – before you ask she’s completely safe, Blue scanned for alien diseases, she likes the food goo and our water is the same as the river by the ruins so that’s not a problem, she’s healthy and happy and super friendly and house trained, and she listens and doesn’t bark very often.” 

Lance inhaled sharply, lungs running on empty. Ruidoso abandoned yapping, opting to paddle her short legs valiantly though the air, treading imaginary water in Pidge’s direction. 

Lance focused on the dog in hand, unwilling to gauge Pidge’s reaction. Was it rambling if he was hitting all the main points? “I want to keep her but if I spring this on Shiro I think he might freak. I need some support. Can I count on you?” Oh god he rushed it. He totally rushed it. 

Pidge was held fast at the threshold, in line with the sensors holding the doors open. 

Lance peeked at them, eyes flitting to the hall. “Pidge? Inside?” 

They took a step forward, panels hissing shut as Pidge engaged Ruidoso in a staring competition. Ruidoso paused her paddling, ears alert, tongue slurped into her mouth. Lance didn’t move as green paladin and green dog faced off. Best not to interrupt. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Lance blurted. Quiet was overrated. Pidge remained locked in the dog v paladin clash of the century. Lance dug around for any possible topic. Last weeks meditation skipped to the front. “You have a dog at home, right?” 

“Bae Bae,” Pidge said automatically. The answer shook them from their stupor. Lance then bore witness to the slowest facepalm in history, glasses slowly pushed up their forehead, catching on their bangs. “I... I don’t know what I expected.” 

“Surprise?” Lance said. Pidge didn’t respond. “Look, I know what you’re thinking–”

“That this is not equal to covering for Rover?” Pidge said, pinching the bridge of their nose. 

“Well, no,” Lance started. 

Pidge help up a small hand. “Hiding a... this has consequences.” 

Lance hefted the laser focused Ruidoso higher on his hip. Time for Plan B. “I’ll take your laundry duty for the next month.” 

“Lance, this is–” 

“And wash Green.” 

“You’re not listening.” 

“I’ll stop stealing your snacks.”

Pidge’s head snapped up. “I fucking knew it.” 

“Please!” Lance could taste desperation, bitter and rational in the back of his throat. 

“Lance, this is potentially dangerous life form–”

“She’s not! Here, hold her. She loves it.” 

Pidge was woefully unprepared for a tiny, squirming puppy haphazardly shoved in their face. Unexpectedly nose to nose with the dog, a slimy purpled tongue shot out and licked a stripe of drool across their glasses. 

Petrified in uncertainty, Lance held out his fuzzy shield as Ruidoso thoroughly slurped Pidge’s glasses, worlds worst window washer. Lance nearly dropped his dog when Pidge giggled. To be fair, his shock ricocheted right back to Pidge’s face. 

“I think she likes you.” Lance offered. 

“Yeah?” Pidge sounded off. They cleared their throat. “Yeah.” 

A tangible quiet was rising in the room, starting beneath their feet and climbing the walls.

Ruidoso resumed wriggling, short pants falling into silence. Lance uncertainty decided to move negotiations to the floor, settling the puppy in his lap. Ruidoso clambered out of his crossed legs the moment he let go, stumbling towards Pidge’s shoes to collide with their ankles. 

Lance waited with baited breath as Pidge crouched to puppy level, squinting through foggy, spit coated glasses. 

“Damnit Lance.”

“Mmm?” Lance offered a totally innocent, completely impartial hum as Pidge sat down heavily. Ruidoso was overjoyed, expressing all the happiness Lance had leashed as Pidge gently scratched his dog behind her ears. 

“Fine.” 

“...fine you’ll help me?” 

“My debt is repaid. In full.” 

Pidge was finishing their sentence as Lance nodded emphatically, waving his hands. “Yes. Of course. Hundred percent.” 

They narrowed their eyes. “And you’re doing laundry. And washing Green.” 

“Yup! Promise is a promise.” 

“No more eating my snacks.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“And Lance,” Ruidoso had succeeded in clambering up Pidge’s thigh. Lance bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cooing. “– hands off Rover II for a month.” 

“What?” Lance gasped. “That was not part of the agreement.” 

Pidge removed their gaze from the snuffling puppy. “No selfies. No vines. You keep your hands off.”

“But–” Lance protested as his brain to mouth connection struggled to bridge the chasm. 

They glared, petting his dog with the predisposed rhythm of a Bond villain. “Final offer.” 

Shit. He should have left stealing snacks off the table. “You drive a hard bargain.” 

“Last chance.” 

“Yes! I swear on my Lion and Voltron and Shiro’s perfectly winged eyeliner!” 

Pidge nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

“So we have a deal?”

Pidge took a final, long look at the puppy curled in their lap. “Yes. We have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pidge sensibility is no match for puppy drool. 
> 
> From the show, Pidge’s dog is called Gunther – more recently his name changed to honor the recording studio's dog. All pets are honorable, so Bae Bae reigns supreme. 
> 
> Let us also honor Sarah, hota and Tem for uncompromising advice in the face of my high pitched whining over ooc dialogue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOWDY FOLKS– if you are new, skip this. If returning, I changed the tags! 
> 
> sorry whump is all I know ;-; 
> 
> (people whump. The dog is safe as houses, I’m not that kind of monster. *skitters back down storm drain*)

“I’m impressed you kept her hidden this long.” Pidge’s flat tone suggested Lance had miraculously exceeded his talent allotment for the year. 

“Gee Pidge,” Lance said, “thanks for the confidence.”

“I won’t forget this.” Pidge said softly, and the residual, creeping sensation he shouldn’t have confided in them sat back smugly on its throne. Ten minutes of puppy snuggles hadn’t moved Pidge an inch, and yet the exasperated vibe persisted. Lance nearly flinched when they looked up. “How have you been hiding her?” 

Lance hastily concluded any further deception would worsen the situation. “Blue is helping mask her life sign.” 

Pidge blinked. “You programed new subroutines?” 

“No?” A shrug bunched his shoulders. “I asked Blue if she could, and she said yes. Technically, this is her fault.”

“I don’t understand,” they pressed, routine head-tilt-and-frown making an appearance. “You asked your Lion? How?”

“Normally?” Lance wasn’t hesitant by nature – ask any one of his siblings. As the youngest, failure to act was a one way ticket to being left behind. But the defensive tilt of Pidge’s eyebrows set off a claxon of warning in Lance’s head. “How do you and Green talk?”

“We don’t.” 

“But the mental connection,” Lance protested, reaching out to Blue, grasping between the empty spaces for her support. “Since we formed Voltron she never shuts up.” **I resent that** “She’s doing it now!” Sinking in his chest aborted a tirade. “Do you not... do that?” 

Pidge shook their head, fingers paused over Ruidoso, mid ear-scratch. “I’ve had better ideas in the Green Lion hangar, but machines don’t talk.” 

“Huh.” If there was a less ‘Lance-sounds-crazy’ direction to steer the conversation, Lance lost visual. Oh well. “If you recall, we were talking about Ruidoso. Bigger problems and all.”

“Right. We.” Pidge said grimly, adjusting their glasses. Their no-nonsense gesture of initial scheming. 

Visceral relief woke as Lance’s fingers tapped a forgotten pattern on the floor, eager for Pidge to reclaim their throne of assumed knowledge. The scrutiny of his connection with Blue was more troubling than he cared to admit. **Not all bonds are the same.** Lance clicked his jaw shut and held a snarky remark between his teeth, yanking the curtains of his connection shut. The last thing he needed was Pidge thinking he was talking to himself. 

“I can’t do anything from here,” Pidge admitted. “But we have to move her.” 

“I was thinking,” Lance started, pushing the lid of this new worry shut till it clicked. Panic later, plot now. “About the Castle schematic you’ve been working on.”

“Which is incomplete,” Pidge countered, “but it’ll give us a place to start.” 

“Do you have the map on your personal screen?” 

Pidge’s frown reluctantly returned. They folded Ruidoso’s ear carefully between their fingers as the puppy panted. “The file is too big.” 

“You’re kidding me.” All manner of frustrated exclamations crowed to the front of his mind, making it difficult to think. “What’s the point of futuristic technology if you can’t compress a file?” 

“It's not a PDF Lance,” Pidge admonished, “I have the condensed version, but you can’t zoom in. A room small enough to blur a life sign would only show up on the internal mainframe.” 

“We have to access the core system,” Lance let his chin fall to his chest, neck creaking. “Typical. I’m assuming this is on the Bridge?”

“There are three access points,” Pidge said, freeing a hand to tick them off. “The bridge, medical,” 

“Why medical?” 

Pidge shrugged. “Scanners for the pods are pretty powerful. Linking life support to central controls makes sense. Remember when Keith was kicked out of his pod early?”

“Hard to forget,” Lance grimaced. Finding Keith slumped under the intercom in medical was permanently carved into his memory. The fresh bruise on his boyfriend’s forearm. Never. Again. From then on Lance promised he would be there to catch him. Lance rubbed at his eyes, trying to dig the visual out of his retinas. “What’s the third?”

“Well,” Pidge paused and deliberated for five, then ten seconds, snagging the rubber band of Lance’s attention and stretching it dangerously thin. 

“You were saying?” 

“It used to be an extra briefing room.” Pidge was testing the words like they might give way. 

If Pidge was trying to drive him up the wall, Lance was officially stapled to the ceiling. “And? What is it now?” 

Pidge wasn’t one for guilty looks. Smug yes, regretful no. “Coran’s room.” 

“Huh.” Not what he expected. Judging by Pidge’s face, some snooping had occurred. 

“Well, we won’t have to worry until Allura makes a wormhole jump.” Pidge changed lanes like an inexperienced driver, swerving to pick up a new topic and shoving the old in the backseat. “The Castle will be scanned automatically.” 

“Right,” Lance said, leaving Pidge’s odd expression alone. He could poke them about it later. “The others return tomorrow, and we leave the day after.” He picked up Ruidoso’s sock ball and tossed it haphazardly from one hand to the other, thinking. “Allura wanted us to finish cataloging your ruin trash today.” He overlooked Pidge’s unimpressed grunt as the ball went wide and glanced off their shoulder. “One of us – you – can sneak off and find a place on the map, then I’ll move her after dinner.” 

Pidge nodded. “That could work.”

In the space between their comment and the answer waiting on Lance’s tongue, the Castle alarms blared to life, siren and lights descending with a vengeance. 

Ruidoso struck a harmonizing howl as Pidge and Lance shot to their feet. Pidge was already out the door when the intercom resonated with Allura’s voice. 

“Paladins! To your Lions!” 

After bundling Ruidoso into the dog-stocked bathroom with her blanket, Lance reached the locker room scant seconds behind Pidge. 

“We’re receiving a coded signal from the Jidoran’s supply trains. An automated distress beacon.”

“What did Shiro have to say?” Pidge asked, snapping their glasses case shut. 

The com was silent for a tick and a half. “We have no contact with the other Lions.” 

Lance fumbled his helmet. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” Allura said coolly. “There are no incoming transmissions from the supply train entourage. Get to your Lions, you two will travel ahead and report.”

Lance’s brain was short circuiting, the Princess’s clipped impatience failed to register properly. No contact? “We should all go!” 

“We do not have a clear understanding of the situation. Going in blindly may worsen the situation.” 

“Bullshit.” Lance swore under his breath; the situation was already worse. The final straps of his armor slipped under his fingers. Since when did his hands get this shaky? 

“This matter is not up for debate.” Allura’s voice hardened, icy displeasure crystallizing. Well. Should not have put his helmet on for that comment. He opened his mouth with a curt apology on his lips, but Allura wasn’t finished. “You endanger the entire team by refusing to follow orders.”

Anger, a white-hot flare Lance hadn’t met, boiled right to his core. Keith was out there, Hunk was out there, her husband was out there and Allura was lecturing him? On what? How exactly was he not following orders? 

A hand grabbed his wrist. “Lance.” 

Pidge was holding their helmet in one hand and his arm in the other. Startled, Lance saw the blue bayard he’d summoned without thinking, heavy and glowing in his death grip. 

“Uh–”

“Let’s get out there and find them,” Pidge said quietly. They held a reasonable, uncannily direct eye contact 14 year olds had no business possessing. Lance waited, no reprimand came. They just stepped back, gave his arm an awkward pat: “We got this.”

Lance swallowed. “Right.” 

“Thank you.” Allura misinterpreted Lance’s agreement. “Coran is uploading coordinates now.” 

Lance shared a tight nod with Pidge, bayard vanishing in a flash. Pidge returned the affirmation and split towards their zip line. 

Blue’s cockpit was alight with activity as Lance dropped in, vaulting the armrest as secondary systems charged with indigo power. 

“Hey girl,” Lance muttered tersely. She was nudging insistently, upsetting his balance. Deep breath. Inhaling the fear and mess of frustration, he caught hold of the controls and dropped his barriers. 

The rush was dizzying, elating as the first flight and familiar as the beach. Blue’s awareness and energy burst through; Lance hadn’t realized how badly he fought her tugging since the alarms started screaming. Distractions and unevenly layered panic were effortlessly swept aside by the crashing tide of Blue’s intent. 

The everything surrounding them – calculated thrum of Castle systems, Altean heat signatures on the bridge, twisting of space as Allura manipulated energies to rip a passage in the fabric of inter-dimensionality – awoke and rolled over him as Lance activated the launch sequence. Every motion was second, third nature by now. The depth of Blue’s awareness could be overwhelming but Lance learned to float near the surface. He couldn’t tell how far, how much Blue knew, but he recognized the insignificance of a swimmer treading water beyond the ocean shelf. 

**There is time little one.**

Lance snapped his eyes open as they exited the spire, exhaling in a long push as he waited for Allura to complete the wormhole. So they had time. All that meant was the countdown to ‘too late’ started now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ahead of the game, and _will be posting_ in a week. Soz for the changes and the hiatus of re-imagining. And sorry sarah for making you suffer. Old dog, old tricks. *joins Ruidoso in her howling*
> 
> (p.s. if Allura seemed a bit harsh there’s a plot device at work here, im luv her too.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE !!
> 
> I did not lie about the weekly updates??? 
> 
> whoo.

Of the hundreds of scenarios Lance conjured in the 15 seconds that passed between launch and exiting the wormhole, what awaited was a stretch even for his overactive imagination. 

When he was 10, Lance’s fourth grade class took a field trip to the downtown aquarium. A long bus ride, the tantalizing lack of complete supervision and normal out-of-school excitement fell to the wayside when the clutter of fifth graders reached the glass walls. Transparent, pulling down the ceiling and bathing the chamber in deep blue, an underwater wonderland was revealed. 

Swarming pods of fish, collision of color and size and inconsistent movement. Lance hadn’t expected to find the tremulous, weightless conflict of shapes and sizes darting between coral obstacles anywhere else. He always wanted to pass through the glass, join the organized chaos floating in front of him, experience swirling divisions firsthand. 

Well. Wishes to fishes as it were.

Leaving the wormhole, Lance and Pidge had effectively plunged through the glass. Except the coral fixtures were a twisting asteroid belt and the cacophony of fish had been transformed into a frantic assortment of ships.

Lance didn’t need his scans or Pidge calling back to report to recognized a coordinated attack of the supposedly warring space pirate factions. 

“Paladins, have you picked up a signal from the other Lions?” Allura called, voice rigid.

“Scanning now,” Pidge said, remaining close to the swirling event horizon. Blue and Green had warped to the edge of the fray.

They hovered, unnoticed spectators paralleling a bulging conflict that centered on the asteroid belt. Lance squinted at the mess. A hundred odd ships, shades identifying five separate factions. 

Blue corroborated his approximation, pressing Lance’s awareness back before sending a pulse reverberating. Energy sunk deep in his chest, anticipation drenching the cockpit. He shifted, hands tensing on the controls. That was new. 

The response was instantaneous and sharp. A spike of relief, unease buried to the hilt in his gut. Lance’s breath caught. Throwing energy out into space was new, but he knew Red. 

“They’re here,” Lance said, adjusting his search as Blue plotted courses. 

“I have interference across all communication channels,” Pidge stepped on his concentration. “Do you have a reading?” 

“No, but I will.” Bravado was an excellent placeholder for explaining himself. There wasn’t time. 

Explosions were flaring at irregular intervals across his view screen. Electric blue outlines chased signals and tagged ships. Friendlies were orbed in blue: the long trains of cargo containers – and the decidedly not friendly in red: crafts zipping among trailers, tractor beams and chains grappling for a secure hold. 

“Coran, I need the Castle sensors to clear this interference,” Pidge said, listing frequencies that Lance tuned out. He knew he felt Red, if he could focus. 

Again the cutting pulse, an awareness Lance couldn’t explain. Fuck a proper heading, Red was that way. “I’m getting a closer look,” Lance said, Blue leaping beneath his fingertips. 

“Be careful!” Pidge called, “communications are overloaded from chatter and–” Heavy static, the shriek of poorly connected sound equipment cut out before Lance could rip his helmet off. 

Perfect. He didn’t have time to worry over the silence as conflict loomed, parting and warping around the Blue Lion. 

Space pirates, Lance discovered, wanted very little to do with his Lion. Dodging errant blaster fire and disabled cargo ships were minor challenges. Whenever he neared clusters of pirate vessels, the ships broke formation at a cursory warning shot to search for less volatile prey. The collective avoidance made it far easier to chase his feeling, Blues connection to Red bleeding purpose and concern. 

Scattering a swarm of hexagonal ships that had settled across a block of cargo like violet flies, energy flashed in his peripheral. A white blue beam emanating from familiar yellow. Slamming right, Blue pushed off an asteroid spire to circle the obstacle. The Yellow Lion appeared, surrounded by neon pink assailants, three angular ships resembling hollowed out ribcages. 

Launching from the asteroid, Lance blindsided the ship attempting to flank Yellow with a shot from Blue's mouth, activating her tail blindly at a rush from her connection. As they twisted, Lance watched the tail beam divide a pursuer along the spine, cloud of gas bursting. The final ship darted backwards from Blue’s assault, disintegrating in a smoky crunch when Yellow slammed her heavily shielded hide into their path. 

“–ANCE. YOU GUYS CAME! IT WORKED!” Hunk's voice crashed over the com. 

“Of course we came!” Lance pulled Blue next to Yellow in a smooth turn, positioning their back’s to the densely packed zone of the belt. “Looks like we showed late. You okay buddy?” 

“Yeah, fine.” 

Hunk didn’t sound fine, but Lance didn’t press. “What’s the deal with your radio? And where’s Keith?”

“Too much activity,” Hunk explained. “With Blue I should be able to boost the signal. Can you keep them off my back?” 

“No problem.” Blues screen targeted a curious umber cruiser sporting wings and tank tread. Lance launched a salvo to discourage any bad ideas. The pull from Red had dulled to a bruising throb.

“Where’s Keith? And Shiro?” 

“Not sure,” Hunk said, strained. “They’re in the belt. I lost contact when they exited their Lions to follow the–”

“–nk, if you can re–... in.” 

“I read you Pidge!” Hunk shouted. 

Lance barely caught meaning behind their words, torn between Red’s fading signal and freezing a row of vividly green ships crawling across a nearby asteroid. Keith exited his Lion? “Hunk, why did they exit their Lions?” 

“Shiro and Keith went after the pod.” 

Lance knew frazzled Hunk, was aware pressing his friend for clarification while he worked was as helpful as sticking a knife in the space toaster. And yet he’d done both in the past. 

He bit the tip of his tongue as Pidge interrupted again. “You’re breakin–... an–eed to adjust transmitter inpu–”

“Copy.” Audio crunched, crackled, glass full of ice hitting concrete. “That should do it.” 

“Perfect,” Pidge’s voice was clear as Lance stifled a flurry of questions. The immediate area was cleared, nothing to distract him as Allura joined the line: “Hunk, report.” 

“Pirates attacked.” Hunk said, “I mean, obviously. We had the situation under control until one cloaked ship broke some pod out of an unmarked container. It had to be their plan from the start,” Lance was always impressed by Hunk's ability to ramble with purpose, stringing events together over the line. 

“They were passing it from one tractor beam to the next. Keith broke the chain,” Lance felt a surge of pride. Of course Keith did. What a nerd. “This pod crashed into the middle of the asteroids.” Hunk continued, “then, then, the Jidorans started dumping their cargo and smashing into pirate ships by the belt – they don’t have any defensive capabilities– but they kept– they kept–”

“Breathe Hunk,” Coran reminded gently. 

“Right – right. Hunk took a shuddering breath that whooshed over the com and Lance was struck with the urge to vaporize all the ships on his radar, alliance be damned. 

Hunk rallied: “We were losing contact, too much interference, too much feedback from the pirates. Shiro wanted the Jidorans to stop sacrificing ships and promised to go after the pod. He and Keith landed near the crash site, and I've been covering their entrance ever since.”

“You did well Hunk.” Allura started. Hunk cut her off, Lance could feel the head shake over their connection. 

“I couldn’t stop every ship - some dropped pirates into the belt. Shiro and Keith aren’t alone in there.” 

The controls creaked under Lance’s white knuckle grip. Blue flipped her scans, splitting incoming signals between potential threats and the twisting maze of asteroids behind. Lance was on his feet as the map formed, drawing an anthill of tunnels and shifting pathways between the loosely connected rocks. 

“We have to go after them,” Lance said, double checking the straps on his helmet as Blue cycled the airlock. 

“Agreed,” Allura said, surprising some small corner of Lance’s mind. “With communications limited do not split up.”

"Yeah, no" Hunk said loudly. "No splitting up. That's not happening." 

Coran cut in. “Hunk, linking Blue and Yellows particle barriers should double their integrity. Pidge will be there shortly to provide additional defense and boost communications. Allura and I can handle the remaining pirate activity.” 

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Lance muttered, finger firmly over the helmets mute button, foot tapping impatiently in Blue’s mouth as the cockpit door sealed in a series of clicks and swishes. Blue was unusually preoccupied, and the connection to Red simply wasn't there anymore. He hated it. 

“Proceed with caution paladins,” Allura instructed. “These readings are highly unstable. Do not take unnecessary risks.”

Privately, Lance knew any risk separating him from his boyfriend was necessary. Publicly, he unmuted the mic and affirmed her words, jumping out of Blue to join Hunk on the rocky surface of the conjoined asteroids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really like space ships guys. thanks for reading !! Y’all a quiet bunch this time around, but ily
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (not to get ANYONE in high hopes, but I finally moved and have some free time ((theoretically)) and I miss these boys+pidge+princess i hope to be back soon im so so sorry for anyone who started this early on i had big dreams and an insomniac life style)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …so I did lie about weekly updates. 
> 
> Once every 35 weeks is better than none?

“Good to see you buddy,” Lance said, hurrying over to Hunk. The uneven surface of the asteroid had an arranged marriage with weak gravity; the combination sent him spinning. 

“You too.” Hunk’s eyes were bright, mouth drawn. There would be a long conversation about splitting the party after this fiasco if Lance had anything to say about it. Above them, Blue and Yellow resynergized their shields, orbs interlacing with chain link precision. With her barrier raised Blue’s scans rerouted to power management. Lance caught a final flicker in his connection with Red, faint and demanding as a paper cut. Great. 

“Where are Black and Red?”

“Took off five minutes ago,” Hunk said, throwing a worried look at the field as shots glanced off the protective orb. “Lance – I’m kinda freaking out here.” 

Lance steadied himself on Hunks shoulder, armor plating solid beneath his glove. “We’ll find them, don’t worry. You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Hunk nodded, summoning his bayard.

Lance reached for his bayard as well, familiar weight forming from pure light beneath his hands. Hunk bought his assurance and that made one of them. Searching the folding expanse of rocks and tunnel mouths stretching around them, he tightened his hold, approaching painful. They _would_ find them. 

With that in mind, Lance stretched his fingers, relaxed to the light grip burned into muscle memory from hours of extra training. Following Hunk’s gaze, he examined gaping holes decorating the expansive, undulating field of rocks in front of them. Beyond the belt, the horizon was split by an orange planet. The world spun rapidly, grey continents crawling across the surface and conspiring to make him dizzy. 

“Any idea where to start?” Lance asked, gesturing to the nearest tunnel. 

“Good question.” Hunk appeared thoughtful, pulling a readout up on his wrist. A blue square hung two dimensionally between them, the map Blue hadn’t completed overlaid with Yellow’s scans. “The last signal came from Shiro, about here.” Hunk poked a layer of the map, leaving a glowing purple spot a few layers deep in the belt. “The pod lodged there.” Another dot, this one green joined the map in a lower section. “I heard they ran into resistance.” 

Lance swallowed. Coran performed numerous space pirate tales at the dinner table, none overwhelmingly pleasant. “Think we should split the difference and aim for the middle, or head to the pod?” Lance asked. 

“Split the difference,” Hunk said, eyebrows furrowed. “No guarantee the pod is still there, but we might be able to find signs of Shiro and Keith.” 

“Follow the screaming?”

“There isn’t any sound in space Lance.”

“It’s an expression.” Lance sighed around his gnawing concern. Try to lighten the mood, everybody turned critic. A few bolts collided with the shields while they planned (see: Hunk planning, Lance pacing). The combination of Blue and Yellow’s power dulled the shots to a heavy knocking. Lance wondered if the ghosts of his former goldfish felt vindicated by the role reversal.

Humming indecipherably, Hunk handpicked a crevice from their innumerable supply and they descended. Wriggling into a facefull of darkness, the smile Lance mustered for Hunk slipped. Purposefully crawling into a shifting field of space rocks was, pessimistically, a fast track to two pancaked paladins. 

Who needed Galra when fuckshit like this happened? Only his boyfriend was singularly capable of getting lost in an asteroid belt, pursued by space pirates, chasing a – wait. 

“Hey Hunk.” Lance’s headlamp illuminated the latest twisting fissure, steep path too narrow for them to move side by side. “What’s in this pod anyways?” 

“We don’t know.” Hunk said, hard frustration Lance rarely heard from his best friend undercutting his words. “The Jidorans wouldn’t say.” He huffed, light from his helmet jumping as he hefted his chain gun. 

“It would have to be pretty important if they were willing to sacrifice ships.” Lance rationalized, then winced when Hunk didn’t respond. _Too soon_ could be an understatement. “How big is this pod?” 

“Really, really small,” Hunk said, “couldn’t be larger than a refrigerator.”

“And they‘re sure it landed? An object that size could have bounced back into space.”

“The signature was lodged tight,” Hunk’s bayard scraped along the wall. Frowning, he put the weapon away, creating nominally more space to maneuver. “This all happened during the first attack. I had contact with Shiro, Keith, and the Jidorans until the other four fleets arrived.” 

They paused at an intersection, Hunk inspecting the map as Lance examined their options. The natural split of space rocks was altered. To space southeast waited another craggy slot canyon. Space northeast offered a wide tunnel. Light from their helmets swept the near perfect circle carved into the wall.

Lance put a hand on the changed surface, slick as glass. “This is weird right? Or did I miss a day in astrogeology?” 

Hunk was engrossed in his map. “Couldn’t tell you. I’m reasonably sure asteroid belts were the week we discovered Chopped.”

“Oh yeah,” Lance mused, vague memories of notecards collapsing into binge watching and a blanket fort of epic proportions. “Didn’t you try to put your foot through the screen?” 

“They never should have done a twins episode.” 

“Would you say it was a…”

“Don’t,” Hunk warned.

“…recipe for disaster?” 

Distantly, crickets. 

Fine, Lance could take a hint. Best thing for a stressful situation? Total silence. Hunk took the lead as they entered the wider circular tunnel, his bayard reappearing. Before this, traversing the fractured asteroids meant undulating claustrophobia, with occasional flashes from the overhead fight trickling down. A few steps inside the tunnel was polarizing, transporting them from shifting flickers to pitch black, the underground kind that was irreplicable on the surface. The curvature reflected and bent light like a bottle on the side of the road after dark. Disconcerting at best, distracting at worst. Lance and Hunk slowed their pace. 

Their map suffered a similar lack of confidence in the new surroundings. Three times they doubled back from dead ends, driven to the eerily glossy, rounded passageways that twisted and turned without care for cardinal up and down. 

Four consecutive minutes into such a tunnel, Lance halted. “Hunk, wait. Seriously, I’m getting a bad fee–”

“DON’T SAY IT.” Hunks voice cracked over the com as he whirled. “I want to get out of here alive!” 

“Look at these.” Lance nodded to holes crosscutting the tube that dwarfed them by three solid feet. Pockets freckled the wall, varying in size and sharing perfectly rounded edges. “I’ve heard of porous rock, but this isn’t it.” 

“We get out of here, we never have to think about it again.” Hunk said, approaching one of the openings anyway. He squinted, ran a finger around the edge. “You’re not wrong, it’s definitely weird.” He shrugged. “We should probably find the others before taking samples though.” 

“I am aware.” Lance said, faltering with the grip on his patience. At bare minimum, Hunk should be on his side. He rallied: “I still think we should steer clear of these tunnels. We’ve gone a lot deeper than Shiro and Keith.” 

“We’re reaching the end,” Hunk waggled the map, zooming in and out faster than the human eye could track, “with the gravity shifting, I don’t know how long this map will be useful.”

Lance snorted. Useful was a stretch. 

“Anyway,” Hunk continued, “If we double back now, I don’t know if I can find a path without returning to the surface and contacting Yellow.” 

Well that wasn’t happening. “Okay, that sounds like the long way.” Lance rolled his shoulders, resolve settling as Hunk glanced around. Spooky tunnels or bust. “Fastest way it is.”

“Did you see that?” 

Lance turned sharply at Hunk’s words, gun at the ready. “I'm not seeing anything buddy.” 

“Something moved.” 

Light danced off the flanking curvature of the walls, slipping the corridor in and out of darkness. “You know what, I think you’re right,” Hunk said heartily, “definitely better to leave now, what with the bad feelings all over the place.” 

“No.” Lance said, training his gun along the empty beams cast by his helmet. “We’ve been down here for ages. Keith and Shiro need backup.” 

“But–” 

“The faster we move, the faster we get out of here. Then we never have to think about it again, right?” Lance flashed a grin, hoping it reached his eyes. “I’ll cover our six, you keep an eye on what’s ahead.” 

Lance heard Hunk gulp. “Right. Leading. Me.”

“You have the map,” Lance reminded. 

“That I do.”

“Hunk?” He didn’t respond. Lance dug deep and found a small reserve of willpower gift wrapped and dedicated to keeping him from snapping at his best friend. “Waiting on you buddy.”

“Right. Great.” Hunk spun around, stamping his feet as he led the way. 

Hunk’s anxiety was infectious. Now Lance was seeing movement in every errant shadow dragging behind them. He was used to rear guard, there was a trick to marching backwards, one the slick floor and uneven gravity didn’t know. To top it off, Hunk started humming. Wouldn’t be an issue if Lance could remember the words to White Flag. Dido was not a regular on his playlist. 

Searching, stepping and testing half remembered lyrics, Lance missed a dark shape slithering in the opposite direction. He snapped his light to the left, one of many openings gaped. Back to the right. Empty, like the others. 

Sweat was collecting at the back of his neck, sticking to his spine. The suits were climate controlled; Lance had nothing to blame but his mounting nerves. He frowned, turning his light in an overhead arc. Come on, keep it together. A real paladin wouldn’t be scared of the dark. 

The black behind them was such an inviting, inventive canvas. Every sweep could dredge up something new. Nightmares populated the shadows, thoughts of bugs, hives, and a pattern on the wall imitating a handprint brought to mind the creeping fear Keith or Shiro were unconscious, bleeding out in this maze. Why else would Red have been freaking out? What was down here?

Again and again, there was nothing. The waist high hole Pidge could fit in, empty. An eye level tunnel Lance could have sunk his fist into all the way up to his shoulder, empty as far as the light could reach. Which wasn’t far at all. 

The further they went, two things picked up. The frequency of holes and the pitch of Hunks humming. The entrance to a conjoining tunnel might have hidden movement – what was he supposed to do about it? They were both on edge. Lance locked his lips for the time being, Hunk needed to stay focused on the map. The light could play tricks all it wanted after they left, thanks. 

“We getting closer?” Lance asked, peeling his eyes from a blurry shape on the wall riddled with holes. Nothing there. Again. Like all the others. 

“Almost.” Hunk sounded better at least. Go Team. “We got a room up ahead, splits off to every other part of the belt.” 

“Fantastic. I’m really starting to hate it in–” He backed into Hunk, lessened gravity tripping Lance forward several steps. “What gives?” 

Hunk’s silhouette was a grey cut out, perched on the lip of a void that ate up Lance’s light. 

“Buddy?” Lance stepped up, looked down.

The tunnel ended in a drop, several stories high. This room wasn’t smooth, craggy rocks from the asteroid belts surface constructed an expansive cavern. They were still deep enough that no light save their own illuminated the expanse. Light in question casting twin yellow disks on the floor. 

The shifting, undulating, writhing floor.

Creatures with enormous, snake-like bodies coated the base of the cavern. Ranging in size from subway trains to telephone poles they coiled around rock formations and each other, stubby pointed legs stuck out at centipede angles, five or six pairs running down their sides.

As Hunk and Lance stood, unmoving, one peeled away from the group, snapping a wide mouth. Ropey strings of drool gathered, slipping along the sharp beak. Burying its head in the nearest wall, stone began smoking, plumes pealing off as it dove into the rock, sinuous body unraveling behind. A long time passed before it sank completely from sight, fresh tunnel left steaming in its wake. 

Lance latched onto Hunk’s collar, tugging him back from the drop off and – nest? Actually, didn’t matter. Not at all. He didn’t need or want to know. They were leaving.

Well, that was the plan. Straightforward as it might be, the curious squeak shifting beneath his foot wasn’t part of it. Lance stomped and whatever the hell was under his boot coiled around his ankle and threw Lance off balance. On the Castleship, with artificially adjusted gravity, Lance would have tripped and bruised his butt. 

In the middle of an asteroid belt with no modifications, Lance fell, hit the wall and bounced right back into Hunk, shoving him off the edge. 

“AHHHH!” Hunk went flying, momentum flipping him around.

“Hunk! Hold on!” Kicking furiously at the creature wrapped around his leg, Lance activated his jet pack, shooting after his friend. The distance closed rapidly, Lance grabbed at the first part of the yellow paladin he could reach – his boot. For a moment they hung in the air, jet pack sputtering as Lance struggled to right Hunk. 

Hunk wasn’t making it easy, slapping at his leg like that. It wasn’t until the creature was pulled free from his leg and fell shrieking Lance realized what Hunk was doing. With a grunt, Lance managed to flip Hunk upright, his friends jet pack flaring to life, stopping their descent a healthy three stories above the cavern floor. 

“Sorry,” Lance said, glancing down in time to watch the wriggling creature land among the others with an earsplitting screech. “That’s probably not good for us.”

“Lance.” Hunk had a hold of his arm. 

“Yeah, lets get out of here.” Below, the barely visible creature continued screaming, eliciting no obvious response from the others. Yet. 

“Lance, I dropped my bayard.” 

Lance blinked. “Hunk. I love you, but right now would be the perfect time to tell me you’ve developed a really terrible sense of humor.” 

“Uh – no. Its definitely down there.” 

“Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorrrrrryyyyy folks many a thing happened since September but I’m back! For a few thousand words! And then who knows. 
> 
> Theoretically keef shows in the next chapter. Here’s to hoping that goes up without another 8 month hiatus ahahhahahaahhahaahaa send help. 
> 
> comments are (hypotetically) a fast track to the next chapter...I swear...I'm trying ;-;


End file.
